He calls to me again
by Niam
Summary: A thirteen year old Ginny Weasly once again hears the call of Tom Riddle, and wants to answer him no matter what.Rated PG-13 in case I ever update.


_Disclaimer: as so often said before, by many greater than me I own nothing of Harry Potter and his little friends._

_A/N: This is my great leap into the world of fan fic...Please be kind..._

__

_Last night I think I heard his voice again...  
_  
That was the thought that hung in her mind as she sat at the table with her breakfast in  
  
front of her. She looked around at the faces of the other students .She watched her  
  
brother talking animatedly to his friends. They leaned in close to speak with one another.  
  
Punches were traded in jest for insults and jeers shared between friends.  
  
How could it be that she felt so alone in the midst of so many people? Her brothers. Her  
  
friends.  
  
_He calls to me...and none of you even know...he was once my secret alone, and I think  
_  
_he may be again...  
_  
She pushed away the plate of now cold food, disgusted by the mere thought of eating it.  
  
She stood to leave. Her brother was still talking. She thought of saying goodbye to them all, but  
  
decided against it as her brothers' audience erupted in laughter. She shook her head  
  
wearily as she walked away from them.  
  
_What do they care?  
_  
She had nearly made it to the staircase that would lead her to her tower when someone  
  
called out her name quietly. She turned at the sound of the familiar voice.  
  
"Miss Weasley? "  
  
It was her Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore.  
  
"Oh, yes Professor? "  
  
"Aren't you feeling well? I don't believe you ate any of your breakfast this morning."  
  
So someone had noticed.  
  
"I'm fine – I just wasn't hungry. "  
  
She wasn't really lying, she told herself. It was true.  
  
"I do hate to see any of my students skip breakfast. Personally, it's something I could  
  
never do myself." He smiled, and the trademark twinkle appeared in his eyes.  
  
"Just remember, if you're not feeling well later today you can always go see Madame  
  
Pomfrey. "  
  
_Really, next time I'll remember to choke down something. Couldn't there be a  
_  
_million different perfectly ordinary reasons someone didn't eat a meal?  
_  
As if to answer this thought, Professor Dumbledore continued in a grandfatherly tone.  
  
"I just like to remind students from time to time that they are _never _bothering any of  
  
the faculty or staff when they seek out help "  
  
He was looking directly into her eyes now as he spoke.  
  
"For anything."   
  
She couldn't continue to let him hold her eyes in his. She quickly shifted her gaze to  
  
somewhere slightly to the left of his all-to knowing- face.  
  
"Have a good day Miss Weasley. " He said cheerfully as he turned and began to walk  
  
down the hall.  
  
She watched the back of his robes receding down the hall for a half a minute or so as he  
  
walked away. As she began to climb the stairs she wondered, not for the first time in her  
  
enrollement at Hogwarts, the man's ability to see her thoughts.  
  
If he knew everything already, why didn't he just come out and say so? But then,  
  
wouldn't she be shipped off somewhere immediately? Some new St. Mungo's ward  
  
like BODILY POSSESSIONS ( Voldemort type only e.g., silly, weak girls unable to  
  
resist dark lords teenage ghosts e.g., GINNY WEASLEY).  
  
Unable to resist? She knew she didn't even feel like _trying _to resist. That's what she  
  
could never quite explain to anyone- how – even how when she was almost removed  
  
from existence-how- it felt to have him inside her head.  
  
Oh, they all thought they knew....  
  
-He tricked her  
  
-He charmed her  
  
- He compelled her  
  
Blah! Blah! Blah! She had heard it all last time.... and they had assumed that knowing  
  
what had almost happened in the end would be enough for her not to "repeat her  
  
mistake"...but...  
  
but what did it matter when he said exactly the right things to you? Told you everything  
  
you had ever hoped to hear from a beautiful god of a boy.  
  
So what if he wanted your very soul in return?


End file.
